


Witch

by XxThorleifxX



Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical Hetalia, Other, Witch Hunters, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:58:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxThorleifxX/pseuds/XxThorleifxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lukas, a boy who has no home is often looked down on by society as a freak. As rumors around town say, he knows Witchcraft. No one dares to offer him a helping hand, even though he is merely ten years old. A starving child on the street, Lukas is picked on often and no one helps him.</p><p>“It was ‘at old freak Lukas. ‘E was always talkin’ about ‘imself like there was somebody wit’ ‘im an’ actin’ all strange-like… An’ now I gone an’ seen him pourin’ col’red light from ‘is ‘ands like some firework show or summat. I always knew there was summat wrong wit’ ‘at boy from the day I laid eyes on ‘im! No friends an’ always alone, sulkin’ ‘round the streets wit’ ‘at strange look on ‘is face. Sure enough, he learnt in witchcraft!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Capture

He ran. The black night engulfed him, seeming to swallow him as his feet hit the ground. His breath was a collection of gasps and gulps, but this did not stop him from throwing himself onward. He heard yelling from behind him, some of the words calling for him to come back, some screaming for him to be caught. He refused to turn his head, knowing that if he looked back he risked being captured. His short blonde hair fluttered back and away from his forehead, the shadows casting an eerie effect over his neck and back, the patterns making it look as though he was shimmering. His cloak flew behind him, catching and snapping loudly in the air. He heard the incoming pounding of horse hooves and knew if he didn't find cover soon he would be caught.

He sent looks to his left, where there was tall grass for a span of twenty paces before the trees of a forest erupted from the earth. He jumped into the grasses and ran diagonally, bending his knees and lifting his legs high above the grasses. He heard the ambushing horse riders call out about his change in direction. Finally he broke out and into the forest, the roots reaching out and becoming hazardous. He strategically jumped and stepped so that his feet weren't landing on the roots. As he moved further into the heart of the forest he took a second to glance over his shoulder. The men with horses were having difficulty with the grasses and the tightly woven tree line. However, the men on foot and their bloodhounds were not stopped by these obstacles, merely delayed. He started to run again, not paying as close attention to his feet as he was to speed. It was after thirty seconds of this that his foot landed on the side of a protruding tree root and twisted. He bit back a yell as he lurched sideways and hit the tree that the root belonged to, lifting his ankle up as he slid his side down the trunk and curled forward. He hoped he had gotten far enough into the forest that he would be hidden, but he knew that it was far too optimistic of a thought. Most likely the bloodhounds would find him if he didn't move soon.

He bit his lip to brace himself as he stood up, putting a light amount of weight on his ankle. He let out a small, muffled scream as an unexpected amount of pain shot up from his ankle and seemed to grip his entire leg in harsh agony. He gritted his teeth and fell to the ground, gasps of withheld screams escaping his mouth every now and then. He knew, at that point, that he would no longer be able to keep going. The smallest amount of pressure on his ankle and the pain became unbearable.

He could only hope that the bloodhound's teeth wouldn't rip at his skin too much.

He pulled himself into the shadows of the nearest tree, arranging his cloak so that it helped him blend in with the tree trunk his back rested against. His ankle was definitely twisted or sprained, and there was even a chance that it was broken or fractured. He looked around and began to rub fallen leaves on his cloak, his face and his clothes, doing everything possible to erase his scent.

As he did this he heard the sniffing of a dog nearby. He tensed his body, not making a single noise. However, a blood-curling howl was hurled into the night air, and he pulled his knees up to his chest, bracing for the inevitable. He tucked his head down and wrapped his arms around his legs.

It was only a few moments before he heard a deep, guttural growling. He refused to move, knowing that any sign of movement would cause the dog to attack. This dog had not been trained to wait, however. Soon he felt razor-sharp teeth digging into his shoulder, knowing at that point his cloak and shirt were not going to survive the night without becoming shreds. The first bite lasted only a few seconds before the dog released its jaw from his arm and dug its teeth into his shoulder again. It only took the dog biting him six bites before it started shaking his flesh between its teeth.

The howl seemed to have signaled the entire group of witch hunters, seeing as more dogs joined the first and began participating in the process of trying to dispatch as much skin and flesh from his arms and legs as possible. Finally, when a few of the dogs owners had reached where he sat and had gotten tired of watching blood fly from the hunched figure, they dragged the dogs off of him. The leader of the group of witch hunters approached the man slowly, watching his tucked head carefully for any sign of movement. The hunter's hand shot out from their cloak and grabbed his blood soaked shoulder, viciously throwing him toward the ground. Defeated, he laid without any sign of protest, his energy had been drained. His hands were chained behind his back and he was forced onto his feet. He did not withhold his yell of pain, but no one cared enough to worry if he was hurt. After all, he was scheduled to die as soon as they reached the city boundary. No one supported him, forcing him to painfully limp over the uneven ground.  


It was a long and painful trek, and as they entered the streets of the city, people stopped what they were doing and watched as the discovered witch came through. He lifted his head up only when he passed where his home was... or, had been. He was sure that he would never go home again. There it was he saw his brothers.

They met his gaze and he knew, at that point, that they understood that he would never be coming home. His brother that was closer to his age shook his head slowly, not able to believe the scene. He began to move forward and entered the street only to be hit and pushed away. "L-Lukas! How can they be doing this to you?" His brother called out, but the condemned boy knew better than to respond. He tore his eyes away from his brother's and returned it to its original forward-facing hanging position. The other citizens were not as sympathetic to him. He didn't understand what he had done to deserve to be treated like this. They screeched foul names at him and some threw water, waste and bits of garbage at him. Thankfully, once he was put in his cell for the night he was able to escape the citizens, but the handcuffs remained on his wrists, causing the skin near them to become irritated and peel. He sighed as the door shut, staring at the wall opposite of where he sat. Honestly, what had he done? He shrugged, not really caring; knowing that no matter what he did there was no escaping his fate. He tilted his head back and rested it against the wall, shutting his dark blue eyes. Since there was not much left to do other than brood or sleep, he found the second option much more desirable than the first, and thus let sleep steal his consciousness.


	2. The Stroll

In his dream, it was a pleasant morning in his home. His home wasn't necessarily his, nor was it any of his brothers. It was a small orphanage that they still lived in, though the youngest brother was the only one bound to the place by the age requirements. The dreamer and his brothers had been sitting upstairs in their small room, whispering to one another. They had been called down for breakfast with the other kids, but had left and started walking in the street. There was a group of children playing with rocks on the side of the street, and one of the brothers said "Hey, Lukas, Emil, we should play with them."

And so, they did. The brother who had said this was Arnesen. Lukas looked around at the children and his brothers after playing with the children for awhile and stood up. Arnesen protested, but Lukas remained standing. "I'll be right back, I was just going to go and get some more things for the kids to play with," he stated and began walking away. His brothers were not actually his brothers. Emil was, in fact blood-related to Lukas, but Arnesen was not. However, he was close enough to Lukas and Emil that they simply identified to him as a brother.

While Lukas _was_ going to get some new toys for the children, he was taking advantage of an excuse to get away from the watchful eyes of parents. He knew that if he made one mistake, he would be at the stake and be burned alive. He had already been inspected for witchcraft due to his inept hobby of talking to "imaginary" friends. If he said that his friends were real, just that only he could see them, and not to mention what his friends could do, he would be taken in and executed.

Lukas sighed as he turned the corner, walking down a path less traveled on. As he placed his feet one in front of the other, he smiled softly to himself. He watched how the leaves from the tree branches towering above his head danced in the summer wind, casting dappled shadows to fall onto the stone ground ahead of him. A bird called out in the distance and leaves created that ruffling noise that can only be heard on a summer afternoon, all accompanied by the smell of warm wind carried over by the river next to the path as it brushed against Lukas’s skin. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, enjoying the peace that warm afternoons like those could bring someone.

 

As Lukas's eyes closed, the memory shifted to another day in the same place, but in a much older setting than that of before.

Lukas was now revisiting the earlier years he had spent outside without either of his brothers. Emil had been separated from Lukas and Lukas had not yet become friends with Arnesen. He had been playing with a small worm, putting leaves and sticks in front of it to make it change course. He talked softly to the worm, and as he looked around to see that no one was around, he began to talk to Troll.  Troll was exactly what his name describes, but his color was green and his personality was gentle. Troll really was just an extension of Lukas, but very real to him. Only those who possessed the ability to see mystical creatures were able to lay eyes on Lukas’s Troll, only those who were born with the curse of witchcraft.

Lukas smiled to himself softly as he began to speak in a hushed tone to Troll. It was at this time, however, that Lukas had not been paying attention. Lukas hadn’t noticed the small pack of boys only older than him by a few years approaching where he sat. Once in a close enough proximity, the leader of the pack bent down, picked up a sizable rock and flung it at Lukas. Lukas dodged only just in time to avoid being hit squarely in between his eyes by the rock, Troll disappearing immediately. Lukas looked at the pack and began to stand up but he was already too late; rocks were being flung every five seconds, half of them colliding with their target.

Lukas, instead of standing up, curled up on the ground in a position that protected his head, stomach and ribcage from damage. He felt each rock his his back and spine and winced at the thud of rock on flesh. What made it slightly worse was that some of the rocks had sharp and jagged points on the sides that split through Lukas's shirt and cut small lines into his back, which left blood pooling around the edges of the cuts. Eventually the gang of boys decided that they were sick of throwing stones and simply came up to him and began kicking him. Lukas kept a painless face, knowing if he showed pain they would start to take out even more anger on him.

Unfortunately for Lukas, he had not noticed the river that was just around the corner, but the group of boys had. They bent down, grabbed his beaten body and picked it up so that his torso was off the ground, his legs dragging behind. Lukas, at this point, had given up. He didn't resist these boys at all as his bare feet scratched against gravel and stones, nor did he protest when he was thrown into the river. In fact, he let the water swirl around him without fighting at all, hoping that if he sunk long enough he would die. The water sent searing sensations throughout Lukas’s body, making the experience all the more painful. Lukas shut his eyes as he felt himself fall deeper, relaxing his entire body and feeling completely prepared to die.

Suddenly a hand grasped his wrist. Lukas opened a single eye to see who it was, but was quickly brought above the surface. Confronted with fresh air, Lukas fell to his hands and knees and coughed up a decent amount of water and a bit of blood. Lukas looked at the boy next to him, obviously the one who had basically saved his life due to the new and unfamiliar face and helpful appearance. This boy reached out and touched Lukas's shoulder gently.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Lukas merely looked at him with a mix of emotions—gratitude and yet anger, confusion, and suspicion. The other boy seemed to have noticed this, and so instead of waiting for a response he took Lukas's hand and led him out of the knee-deep water they had been in.

The boy, Lukas noticed, had light blonde hair that stuck up in random places and bright blue eyes. His height was taller than Lukas’s by at least five inches, and from the hand gripping Lukas’s hand, it was obvious who was better fed. Lukas knew that the boy’s clothing was nothing to brag about in modern society, but compared to his own torn and ripped apparel, the other boy would have looked as though he belonged to the upper classes.

Lukas shivered as he was exposed to more and more of the cold air, which the other boy did not let go unnoticed. "You need to find a place to stay the night," he stated, pausing a bit. "I'm sure she will not mind." After this he took off his own damp coat and wrapped it around Lukas’s shoulders before leading Lukas anywhere else.


	3. The Orphanage

He took Lukas through the streets and onto the porch of a short but wide home. It had a few windows that Lukas could see into, especially due to the fact that the sun was just about to wink away from the sky and the candles were lit inside. Lukas saw children's faces of both sexes peering out as they watched the actions of the two boys that were trailing river water behind them. The rescuer of the two knocked on the fitted wooden door and a rather plump woman opened it.

She had a kind but stern face, her once-dark brown hair was streaked with grey and was pulled into a loose bun. Wrinkles were beginning to form on her cheeks, eyes and forehead, and her eyes were a vibrant blue. Her dress was faded and had stains from years of wear and an apron in the same condition tied loosely around her waist. She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight in front of her— one of her orphans and a stranger, both drenched and rather filthy. The woman opened her mouth and inhaled some air to start bellowing questions, but that was before she saw Lukas's many bruises, cuts and scrapes. She ushered the boys in, shutting the door quickly behind them. As soon as Lukas entered the main room of the home –it was more of a remodeled nursing home than anything– he felt at least forty pairs of eyes focus in on him. He tried to pull in on himself, but the boy who had pulled him out of the river was urging him onward as they followed the woman. He spoke to her so quickly and in such a hushed voice that Lukas could not hear, nor understand any of what they were saying.

"I can handle it, it's not that bad."

"Arnesen, he needs more help than just bandaging."

"Na, you take care of everyone else and then come get him."

The woman, "Na" sighed. "Alright, Arnesen. I'll be back in thirty minutes." She then stalked off, ringing a small, hand-held bell as she walked among the children. All of them protested going to bed when something so interesting as an injured stranger was in their presence as they were herded into the hallways. The boy, Arnesen, did not leave, however. Lukas wished he would, it was awkward for him already, seeing as he felt embarrassed at this point.

"My name's Arnesen, by the way." The boy said as he pulled a small box out of the wall. Lukas nodded curtly.

"I assumed as much," he whispered. Arnesen froze when Lukas spoke, but resumed whatever he was doing rather quickly.

"Is that so," he muttered in response. He now exposed what was inside of the box; numerous cloth pieces and a jar of poultice. There was more inside the box, but Arnesen had not seemed to find the rest important at the moment. "Shirt," Arnesen said sternly, holding out his hand. Lukas shot him a baffled look. Arnesen smiled a bit and repeated himself. "Your shirt, take it off. I need to clean your wounds."

Lukas was hesitant, but he slid the shirt up and over his shoulders, handing the rags of what had once been a decent shirt to Arnesen. Arnesen set the shirt down next to him before he put some poultice on his hands and began to rub it on his hands. Lukas winced at Arnesen's hands touched the wounds on his arm, the poultice stinging the cuts and bruises. Lukas bit his lip and did not complain, however.

"So, what's your name? I told you mine, so it’s only fair if I know yours too." Arnesen stated as he put more of the poultice on his hands and rubbed it onto Lukas’s other wounds. Lukas waited for the immediate pain of the poultice to subside before he answered.

"They call me Lukas." He responded quietly. Arnesen smiled.

"Well, Lukas," he started, pausing as he applied more poultice, "you got yourself beat up awfully good. What did you do to anger them so much?" Arnesen was asking questions to pass the time, but also because he was curious. Lukas, on the other hand, had no initial intention of answering, but it seemed that his answer jumped out of his mouth before he could contain it.

"I never did anything to them." It was a true statement, but what Lukas never mentioned, and never would, was that this was not the first time he had been beaten as such. As soon as he had moved to this country he had been separated from his blood brother and left friendless due to his horribly shy nature. This had led to the feeling of hunter and prey from the small pack of boys that wandered the streets. They felt that Lukas was an easy enough target to attack and defeat every time.

There were a few instances when Lukas fought against them and had won. The next day the group would simply bring such a taller or stronger ally to beat him up. Eventually he stopped resisting and learned to take it. If his skin ever scarred, he would have lines cut into his back and arms from every angle and in every length.

Arnesen froze again when Lukas put voice to his answer, but returned to his nursing care of Lukas as quickly as he had left it. "They never have a reason," Arnesen whispered angrily. He looked at Lukas's bare arms and examined his work. "Your arms need time to dry before I put the bandages on them. Can you turn so your back is facing me?" Arnesen asked politely, and Lukas nodded, wincing as he adjusted his seating position. He hadn't realized how stiff his muscles had become or how tight his skin was until he moved. Arnesen saw the wince and put his hand on Lukas's shoulder, in a rare space that wasn't bruised, scratched or bleeding, and moved himself and his supplies to Lukas's backside. "Don't strain yourself. All you'll do is reopen your wounds."

He began to put more of the poultice on Lukas's back, but after realizing that his earlier tactic of applying the medicine to Lukas's arms was going to take forever if he did the same for Lukas's back. "I'm sorry Lukas, but this is going to hurt." He grabbed a large portion of the poultice and lathered it onto Lukas's back. Lukas tightened his grip on his pants, withholding a yell. Arnesen sighed. "Those boys shouldn't bother you much anymore, by the way," he whispered.

This confused Lukas yet again.

"Why?" His voice was hushed and hard to hear, but Arnesen could understand what Lukas had said. Arnesen's face was, for once, emotionless as he got more of the poultice to put on a different section of Lukas's back.

"Let's just say that they were... Taken care of." Arnesen's voice was low and serious. Lukas remained still, slouching a bit and clutching his hands tightly together. He did not respond for awhile, and at that point the corners of Arnesen's mouth had twitched upward. "It was a joke. I threatened them and they ran away with their tails between their legs." Arnesen said, laughing a bit. Lukas emitted a weak "ha", but that was the extent of his response. Arnesen furrowed his eyebrows, shook his head and changed topic. "Don't you live with anyone?" Arnesen stood up and went back to Lukas's front side to check on the arm wounds. Lukas was staring blankly at the wall behind Arnesen, the emotion and feeling that should be reflected in his eyes was only vacant and cold looking.

"I... I live alone." Lukas said, turning his attention to the floor in an ashamed fashion. "I would live with my brother, but when we arrived here he was separated from me," Lukas hung his head further. "I'm his elder brother, I'm supposed to take care of him, I'm supposed to be there for him, and he gets separated from me?" Lukas's voice began to waver. Arnesen reached out and tenderly touched the poultice he had applied earlier to see if it had dried to the right texture for the cloth to stay put. Deciding that it was dry enough, Arnesen took out the roll of medical cloth. He began to wrap the cloth around Lukas's arm and asked, "What does your brother look like?" Lukas looked up and met Arnesen's eyes directly.

"He has grey hair and violet eyes." His voice began to crack and for a split second Arnesen could see the agony that Lukas suffered through due to the situation. "He was the only family I had left." Lukas said, his voice hushed again as he tilted his head away from Arnesen, and though he could not see Lukas's eyes he could see the single tear that streaked down Lukas's face. It snaked down the bridge of Lukas's nose and clung to the tip before falling onto the floorboards. Lukas made no motion towards wiping it off. Arnesen paused, sensing a sensitive moment. He reached the bottom of Lukas's arm with the bandage and ripped the excess cloth off, tucking the extra fabric underneath. He then started wrapping Lukas's other arm.

Lukas remained silent, which bothered Arnesen, but he knew better than to push someone like Lukas too far. As he finished wrapping Lukas's other arm, he leaned over to prod Lukas's back gently, checking again to see if the poultice was dry enough. He then silently indicated to Lukas that his arms needed to be raised, and Lukas gave a small nod to show that he understood. Arnesen then began wrapping Lukas's entire torso, knowing it was better to cover the whole back than cover parts and leave some wounds open. As he finished he once again ripped the cloth and tucked it under the tightly woven bandage, patting it for a sense of finality.

It was at this point that Arnesen noticed that Lukas's ribs showed through his skin. Everything about Lukas seemed to be thin, now that it was brought to his attention. Arnesen bit the inside of his cheek and stood up, leaving Lukas alone for a time span of about two minutes. When Arnesen came back he had a small muffin that had been set out for his breakfast and held it out to Lukas. Lukas looked at the muffin and tilted his head, but reluctantly and painfully held out a shaking cupped hand. Arnesen dropped the muffin into Lukas's hands, and Lukas took a small bite of the muffin. As he chewed, he muttered a small "takk," and took another bite.

Arnesen smiled at the hunched figure, but his was an empty smile, no joy or happiness behind it, but instead perhaps pity. Arnesen walked to the fireplace, of which had a dying fire's embers glowing dully. He grabbed some firewood from the side of the fireplace and threw it onto the embers, poking it and reviving the fire until it was emitting a momentous amount of heat for such a small fireplace. Lukas made no movement towards it, but his eyes darted to the fire in an animalistic way. Arnesen realized, at that point, that had Lukas been living in the streets he most likely hadn't been around a fire for quite some time. Sighing, Arnesen motioned to Lukas that it was okay to move by the fire. Arnesen also noticed that Lukas had already finished the muffin. He noted that Na could make him something special to eat tomorrow morning.

Arnesen left once more, but came back with pillows, blankets, and fresh clothing. He began arranging a makeshift bed. There was no mattress, but the pillows would aid to making the floor not seem so hard. Arnesen tapped Lukas's shoulder, of which was turned away from him. He held out the dry pants to Lukas. “Here, these are some of my sleeping pants, you can borrow them for tonight.” Lukas looked at Arnesen strangely, as though the concept of someone being generous to him was completely foreign. Arnesen reminded himself that to Lukas, kindness most likely was a foreign notion, and this saddened Arnesen’s gentle heart enormously. Lukas took the pants slowly, but after watching him struggle with changing for five minutes, Arnesen offered to help. Lukas did not protest, and while Arnesen changed Lukas’s pants his face reddened at the embarrassment of being reduced to needing help with such a simple task. Lukas nodded to Arnesen in gratitude once Arnesen had changed out of his own sopping clothes. Lukas’s eyes diverted to the fire and he became fixated on the leaping flames. Arnesen sighed and tenderly gripped Lukas’s shoulder.

"Come on, get some rest. I'll stay out here with you," Lukas looked over his shoulder at Arnesen's hand, snaking his eyes up to meet Arnesen's. Reluctantly, Lukas began pulling himself over to the makeshift bed. As Lukas neared the bed, Arnesen pulled the blanket upward so that Lukas didn't have to lift it. Lukas laid down on his right side, the side that he had been able to protect better and was therefore less injured. Arnesen tucked the blanket from Lukas’s toes to his chin, making sure that Lukas was well covered. It was not long before Lukas's eyes were shut and his breathing steady. Arnesen pulled himself under the blankets and rested his head on the other pillow. He could feel Lukas's body heat from where he laid and waited until he was absolutely sure that Lukas was asleep before he closed his own eyes.

Na came in ten minutes later only to find both of the boys sound asleep. She smiled to herself and went to her own bed, knowing better than to wake them.

 

The next morning Arnesen woke up before Lukas. Na was already awake when he rolled over, so he decided to help Na set out the food for the other kids. As the smaller children filed in they were loud and obnoxious as children usually are, but one followed behind the rest, holding a worn blanket to his chest. He held the blanket up to his chin, loneliness and fear echoed in the little one’s eyes. Arnesen noticed this and walked over to the child. The little boy blinked up at Arnesen, his violet eyes seeming to stare right through Arnesen and at the wall behind his head.

"Hey there, buddy. Something bothering you?" Arnesen asked, bending down so that his height was more similar to that of the boy's. The child sniffled, but that was all. Arnesen sighed and turned to face Na. "Hey Na, what's this one's name?" He asked her, and she spared paying attention to the other kids for a second to look over and reply "Oh, his name's Emil, apparently. I found him by the docks crying all by himself in the middle of the night."

Arnesen's eyebrows furrowed as he turned back to Emil.  
"Do you have a family, Emil?" Arnesen asked, knowing it was probably a sensible question, but that it had to be asked.

"I have... A... A big b-bro...ther..." Emil muttered back, tucking his face further into the blanket he carried as his eyes began to well up. Arnesen raised his eyebrows, looking over at Lukas's hunched, sleeping figure.

"Your big brother, eh? What does your brother look like?"

"B-blue eyes and b-blonde hair like our daddy had, and a nose l-like our m-mommy." It was at this point when Emil's tears overflowed and spilled down his cheeks. He almost threw the blanket over his eyes in an attempt to conceal his crying. Arnesen noted that Emil was a silent crier, no moaning or whining as the tears fell. However, Arnesen still felt obligated to do something for the little boy. Arnesen walked over to Lukas, shoving his shoulder a bit. Lukas's eyes flew open, but soon they relaxed and were as usual.

"Morning Lukas," Arnesen whispered, and Lukas groaned a bit. "I... I just have one question, and then I won't ask any more on the topic, but what was the name of your brother?" Lukas pulled himself onto his shoulders slowly.

"'S name's Emil," Lukas looked up and straight into Arnesen's eyes,  "and he means the world to me." Arnesen nodded, going back to Emil, whose sniffling was now heard. Arnesen grabbed his plate, of which had another muffin on it and grabbed an extra, placing the two side by side. Once he did this he reached down and tapped Emil's shoulder.

"Would you like to eat with me this morning?" He asked gently, and while Emil gave no response, he pulled his blanket down so his eyes peeked out. Arnesen pretended to look around for a place to sit, and started walking towards Lukas. Emil followed and sat down next to Arnesen after Arnesen had gotten comfortable, and Emil looked at the plate curiously. Arnesen picked up the extra muffin he had taken and handed it to Emil, who promptly broke it in half and gave the bigger half to Arnesen. "Thank you," he said, nodding to Emil. "You know, Lukas, your brother sure is sweet." Arnesen said, smirking to himself as he sunk his teeth into the muffin. Lukas jolted upward, looking first at Arnesen in bewilderment before his eyes rolled down to the small figure of Emil.

"E-Emil?" Lukas gaped, the blanket that had covered his bare and bandaged skin falling away from his shoulders. Both of them stared at the other in disbelief. Emil dropped his own blanket before he launched toward Lukas, and time seemed to slow down as Emil's arms wrapped around Lukas's neck while Lukas caught and returned Emil’s embrace. Lukas fell back and onto his pillow from the force of the hug, but he did not mind as he dug his head into Emil's shoulder. Lukas had a few tears running down his face, and Emil was bawling. Lukas pushed both of them into a sitting position, and when he lifted his face from Emil's shoulder he had a grin plastered across his face as he whispered not so quietly "I missed you so much," into Emil's ear. Emil nodded, but was too busy crying to respond. Both were shaking as they clutched at each other, smiling madly as their faces dug into each other’s shoulders. The scene warmed Arnesen’s heart; knowing deep down that he had done the right thing.

Later on, Na checked Lukas's wounds and stitched up the deep cuts. After explaining what had happened to Emil, Arnesen adding in a few details, the three looked at each other in a different way than before.

When school started that fall, it had been about four weeks since Lukas had joined Na's orphanage and was able to call it home. Arnesen was close enough to Lukas's age that they were put in most of the same classes, which led to them getting to be rather close. Na taught Emil in her miniature preschool, along with the rest of the children his age.

 

When enough kids got adopted or came of an age where they could live on their own, Lukas, Arnesen and Emil got a room to themselves. Most nights after Emil had fallen asleep, Lukas and Arnesen would talk. They talked about random things, such as other kids in class, a funny memory from the day, or even something that happened in a book they were reading. One night Arnesen's nightshirt's sleeve was rolled up and Lukas could see a dark bruise on his elbow. Lukas snatched Arnesen's arm, knocking Arnesen off balance. "What the-" Arnesen exclaimed quietly as his arm was snatched from underneath him.

"When did _this_ happen?" Lukas asked as he examined Arnesen's arm. Arnesen flushed.

"Well, you see, uh," Arnesen knew better than to try and talk himself out of this one. This time, it was all about the delivery. "Those kids that used to pick fights with you and hurt you, they were saying stuff behind your back," he said, not looking Lukas in the eyes. Lukas squinted at Arnesen, put the palm of his hand under Arnesen's chin and forced the other to meet his gaze.

"Like what? It's nothing worth getting yourself hurt over." Arnesen let his eyes drop to the ground as he whispered his answer.

"They were saying that we act like a couple all the time and that you acted too much like a girl."

Lukas furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't see the big deal," he paused and let Arnesen's arm drop onto his ribcage. "What's it to them anyway? Not that big of a deal even if we were a couple." Lukas shrugged as he turned away for a moment, and when he faced Arnesen again there was cloth in his arms. What Arnesen didn't know, however, was that Lukas's heart was racing. "Because you don't like me that way, right?" Arnesen blushed slightly but shook his head.

What Lukas didn't know was that Arnesen really, really liked Lukas, even though Arnesen knew that he wasn't ready for a relationship. Arnesen didn't know that Lukas really, really liked him back, but Lukas knew that he wasn't ready as well. As Arnesen shook his head, he unintentionally crushed both himself and Lukas. Himself from having the opportunity and blowing it, Lukas from being rejected.

What neither of them knew as Lukas began to bind Arnesen's arm, was that a very awake and eavesdropping Emil had heard the entire conversation and was smiling to himself, silently knowing what no one else at that time knew.


	4. The Accusation

As the boys got older, Emil went to the school that Lukas and Arnesen had gone to, while Lukas and Arnesen stayed home and helped Na. As they had more time, they spent it by taking walks together and playing old children's games. Since Emil was gone during the day, they cleaned, tutored and baked with Na, which led to both of them gaining respect from the younger children, and Emil having a better relationship with Na.

Emil's homework began to increase in this time, causing him to stay up later. This just meant that Arnesen and Lukas stayed up for an even longer amount of time. One night, when Emil couldn't sleep, he listened to the two talking. He smiled as he heard their hushed conversation, withholding a sigh. _If only they weren't so blind to their own emotions,_ he thought, rolling onto his side so that his eyes faced Lukas and Arnesen. He opened his eye so that his eyelids were only cracked open to a sliver and he saw them lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling as they talked. Lukas's eyes were shutting and his head was falling, his attempts of staying awake obvious from how his eyes would shoot open every now and then. Emil both heard and saw Lukas's heard turn slightly as he fell asleep and smiled to himself. He slowly pulled his blanket up and over his face, concealing his smile behind the comforting fabric.

It was at this point that he saw Arnesen stand up and stretch before he pulled Lukas's blanket up for him. Emil had seen this occur countless times before, but most of the time it was Lukas. Every now and then Arnesen was able to stay awake longer than Lukas and was the one who pulled up the blanket. As Lukas's body curled inward from sleep Arnesen looked down at Lukas. Emil frowned due to the moon casting light in all of the wrong places for him to be able to clearly see anything. But Emil did see Arnesen reach down and pull a few strands of hair off of Lukas's face before he bent over and kissed Lukas's cheek.

Emil had to withhold a squeal, which caused his body to suddenly jerk inwards on himself. Due to the jerking, his small bed cot made a few strange noises which Lukas sat up and looked at. _Drat, he's awake now,_ Emil thought, still able to see shadows through his blanket. Lukas furrowed his eyebrows at Arnesen, who was next to Lukas's bed still. Arnesen sat down next to Lukas and ran the back of his fingers across Lukas's cheek before cupping his palm under Lukas's chin. As Arnesen pulled in, Lukas pushed himself forward slowly, shutting his eyelids.

Emil couldn't contain it any longer.

A small, high pitched squeal that one should not expect to come out of a boy Emil's age, well, came from Emil. Lukas jerked his head to where Emil laid, stood up and walked over to Emil's bed. Emil didn't try to hide the fact that he was awake when Lukas yanked back the covers of Emil's bed. Lukas leaned over and stared into Emil's eyes for a few moments before lying down next to Emil, pulling his blankets over both of them.

Emil protested to a degree, but Lukas stated that if he had been asleep there would have been no need for him to come over.  


In the following evening Arnesen and Lukas took a walk when the sun was barely visible above the horizon. Arnesen grabbed Lukas's wrist and pulled him into the tree line of the town, and they quickly climbed a tree, though they stayed in the lower branches.

There they stayed as the sun cast its shadows across the clouds making shades of purple, orange and red brush across the sky. Lukas leaned on Arnesen's shoulder as the sun sunk behind the hills and the world began to get darker. Once the light began to disappear at last, Lukas pulled himself up and away from Arnesen's shoulder before quickly swinging back and kissing Arnesen's cheek. Lukas held his lips on Arnesen's cheek for a moment longer, then slid from the branch they sat on, landed firmly on his feet and ran back to Na's house. Arnesen stayed where he was for much longer after that, holding a few fingers to the cheek Lukas had kissed.

They did this often, almost every night, meeting in this tree. Lukas would try to show Arnesen his Troll, but no matter how many times he summoned the creature Arnesen wouldn't see it. Not only did Lukas try to show Arnesen his Troll, he also tried to conjure fairies and other such creatures, and Arnesen could only see the simple, non-complex animals and beings that appeared. That evening, when the sun was just about to set, Lukas was leaning against Arnesen's shoulder again, but this time Arnesen's arm was wrapped around Lukas, his head resting against the top of Lukas's. When the sky was only slightly more beautiful than the most intricate painting, Lukas pulled his head off of Arnesen's shoulder again, but he soon had his free hand wrapping around Arnesen's neck. Bringing his face to Arnesen's, he lightly pressed his lips to the other's. Lukas's eyes were closed, his eyelashes brushing Arnesen's cheek. Arnesen was surprised for a second, but quickly melted into the kiss, pulling Lukas closer. Arnesen put his hand on the back of Lukas's head, running it through his soft blonde hair. Arnesen and Lukas smiled as they kissed, and neither of them cared that the darkness was setting in.

Later on, when they had broken off and it was dark, Lukas began to create a masterpiece of a light show. That was when one of the old gang boys from all those years ago walked by underneath the branch they were on and looked up, seeing the magic that poured from Lukas's hands. The old bully screamed, making every living thing cringe and any happy mood immediately darkening. It was not the scream that was so disturbing as _what_ he screamed, however. What he screamed was even worse.

He had screamed "w-witchcraft!" and began to run away from the two. Lukas sent a panicked look to Arnesen, knowing there was no denying the fact that Lukas could perform witchcraft. Lukas slid off of the branch and when he hit the ground, he sent a last glance to Arnesen.

"Arnesen, please. Stay away from me and keep Emil safe." Arnesen furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion.

"What are you talking about? Na can hide you," but Lukas shook his head.

"No, I won't put her life in danger too." And with that, Lukas set off running.


	5. The Monster

Arnesen tried to catch the cloak that Lukas was wearing as it flew out from behind him, but Arnesen’s fingers fell short. Shortly after the scream and after Lukas had completely disappeared from Arnesen’s sight, the townspeople crowded near. Those who were brave had their pitchforks and torches held above their heads, those more cowardly were indoors and only peeking their eyes over the windowsill. As the common folk questioned the old bully on who it was, Lukas’s name leaked out.

“It was ‘at old freak Lukas. ‘E was always talkin’ about ‘imself like there was somebody wit’ ‘im an’ actin’ all strange-like… An’ now I gone an’ seen him pourin’ col’red light from ‘is ‘ands like some firework show or summat.” Arnesen rolled his eyes at the old bully, but those who could hear the boy listened intently. With an almost smug expression, the boy continued. “I always knew there was summat wrong wit’ ‘at boy from the day I laid eyes on ‘im! No friends an’ always alone, sulkin’ ‘round the streets wit’ ‘at strange look on ‘is face. Sure enough, he learnt in witchcraft!” It was at these words that Arnesen snapped.

“Maybe if you hadn’t attempted to kill him he wouldn’t be so ‘strange.’ I suggest you watch the limits of your mouth before anymore garbage spills out of it.” The crowd and the large-mouthed boy turned their attention to him immediately. “If I hadn’t shown up at the right time to see you and your buddies throw him into the river, he would have died at your hands.” The entire clearing was hushed now. The boy facing Arnesen smirked and walked towards Arnesen, leaning over him. His foul stench entered Arnesen’s nostrils, which caused them to flare. Arnesen covered this motion by defiantly meeting the other boy’s eyes head on, staring fiercely at this big coward.

In actuality, none of these “boys” were really boys at all at this point in the story, save perhaps Emil. They were more so young men than anything, but the term “boy” seems to fit them rather nicely.

The boy towering over Arnesen leaned forward ever so slightly, but just enough so that his breath was felt on Arnesen’s face. “An’ maybe if ‘e ‘ad died then an’ there, we wouldn’t ‘ave this problem, aye?” At this remark, the crowd around them cheered. Blossoms of red anger appeared on Arnesen’s cheeks, and the look of his face darkened immensely. So much so that the bully in front of Arnesen began to back away from Arnesen slightly, a hint of fear flickering in his eyes. It was at that point that Arnesen bent down and picked up a small pebble from the ground, rolling it in between his fingers.

“I wonder… how many stones did you throw at him? How much blood did you see pour from his back? How many blows to Lukas did you deliver that became black and blue in only seconds? How light was his frame as you threw him into the river?” Arnesen laughed, a dark, dangerous laugh as he stepped towards the bully slowly, looking at the rock. “How much did he fight? Oh, that’s right… he didn’t. He’d given up, because of you.” Arnesen began to laugh, and the bully continued to back away, recognition from all those years ago finally settling in.

“’Ey, I know you! Yer that… that… ah…”

“What does it matter, my name?” Arnesen snapped, appearing to be rather insulted that his side of the conversation had been interrupted. “My name, of all things?” The clearing was not scoffing at Arnesen any longer, nor saying much of anything as they watched the two boys.

“What’s wrong with this town, I ask you!” Arnesen suddenly bellowed, running his hand through his hair as he began to laugh pathetically. “What’s wrong with you people?” He asked, sweeping his hands around the circle. “Why is it so vital to hunt down a witch when a person who attempted murder on an innocent child is standing unarmed and right in front of you all! How can you be so idiotic to ignore the _real_ monsters of society?”

The crowd had no answer, and the bully ran from the scene. Arnesen stood in the middle of a circle, panting from yelling so much. When the Witch Hunters arrived at the scene the townspeople described the boy, told of the direction he had gone and followed them as they began to hunt Lukas down.

Arnesen sat, hunched against the tree that both of them had come to love, a tear running down his face. However, it soon began to rain, and at that point it became unclear as to how many tears could have gone down his face.

 

In a field outside of town, Lukas heard the steady hoof beats of the local Witch Hunters and added more fuel to his steps. The sun was setting, the world beginning to darken, the meadow becoming endless, the hopelessness of never escaping settling, his heart starting to beat too fast, his head spinning, the sound of horse hooves melding into his subconscious, the nightmare that would never end, this nightmare would never end, this nightmare would never...  


Lukas opened his eyes slowly, groaning at the awkward position he had fell asleep in and the cricks he felt in his body as a result. While he had slept his body had fallen sideways. His ankle was throbbing slightly, and he questioned why it was swelled and bruised for a moment before remembering his tumble in the woods. Sighing, Lukas tried to fix his position, but due to the fact that his hands were tied together behind his back, this feat was made far more difficult than necessary. The memories had flashed by rapidly in his dream, but he felt as if he had relived his entire life. He smiled to himself as he muttered "my life flashed before my eyes," a saying he knew was common with those condemned to die. He had been thrown into the dungeon, and therefore had no windows to check for what time of day it was. Lukas only hoped that he wouldn't have to wait very long for his execution.

A rattling noise near the door startled him, and due to the fact that he had given up trying to lift himself back up into his sitting position, he rolled to watch the door that slowly opened, the hinges creaking. The people behind the door were not those he had been expecting, however.

Arnesen and Emil were behind the door, dressed in dark apparel. Lukas frowned, glaring at Arnesen.

"I told you to stay away," Lukas said in his usual monotone. Arnesen sighed.  
"Yeah, well we didn't. Come on, let's go before the guards outside wake up." Arnesen reached into the cell, pulling a knife from his pocket and slashing the bonds that held Lukas's hands together. A sense of relief rushed through Lukas's arms as the irritating rope of his confinement was removed. The guards had not seemed to find Lukas threatening enough to tie his ankles in place, so therefore the task of freeing Lukas from the rope was quite simple.

There was still an issue, however.

Knowing Lukas, the issue was not freeing him, but getting him out. Arnesen knew that the only way that Lukas would consider moving was if it would mean a better outcome for all of them, or he would stay where he was and let all the punishment come across himself.

"If you don't hurry we'll all be caught." Emil said, throwing an impatient tone into his voice. Lukas opened his mouth to protest, but Emil spoke before Lukas had a chance to say anything.

"I'm not leaving you behind, brother. I'm not going to lose you again. Not without fighting first." Emil's gaze was stern and steady, staring at Lukas with determination. Those were the words that got Lukas to slyly sneak out of the cell and climb into the shadows Arnesen and Emil were already in.

"About time, Lukas. C'mon, let's get going before the guards outside wa–"  
It was at that moment when a groan was heard from the front entrance to the chambers. Arnesen swore silently under his breath and the three took off running as quietly as they could to the nearest stairway. Arnesen's thoughts were if he was able to find a room to hide in that was closer to the exit, there was a better chance that they could escape. They began to hear heavy footsteps, walking towards where they had been. Hopefully it would take the guard awhile to realize what was happening and give the three a few more precious seconds of time. Finally they reached a back stairway, one that was normally only used in emergencies and they ran up the stairs, not caring where they wound up.

The three found themselves in a storage room full of grain and flour, a stack of beer kegs in corners as well. Arnesen pulled a keg out of place to allow only enough room to sneak behind the kegs and be hidden from view. Lukas and Emil squeezed through the narrow entrance first, Arnesen coming through last and pulling the keg back into place as he did so. There were echoes of yelling and running footsteps heard from behind the wooden barrels. The three bent down next to the wall, watching with wide eyes. The men entered the room they were in, looking around a bit before continuing to move out. When the guards were a safe distance away Arnesen heaved a heavy sigh, standing up.

"Now's our chance to leave, we can get out while they're not here," he said, his voice not so much of a whisper anymore. The other two stood up and Arnesen was pushing the same keg out again when Lukas put his hand on Arnesen's shoulder.

"Stop. Be quiet," he ordered, listening. There was the muffled sound of feet shuffling into the room.

It was the man that had been in front of Lukas's cell, assigned to guard it. The lazy oaf had followed the others after being shaken awake, knowing he would be able to pretend that he had been looking for the escapee inside without doing any work. All he would have to say was "no sign of them anywhere inside the castle," and he'd get away with his laziness while still getting paid. However, this man was desperate for money, and as pathetic as his tracking skills and motive were, if he found the criminal he might be given a reward, and therefore was not going to just let the prisoner slip by if he made the mistake of exposing where he was. The guard carried a small crossbow with him, knowing it would pose a threat to the unarmed prisoner.

Lukas, Emil and Arnesen all tucked back against the wall, but the moved keg was impossible for a person to miss, even for such a lazy man. He grunted and came over, finding the three hiding behind the barrels and recognizing the prisoner immediately.

"Back to your cell, you." He growled, and he took the three back to Lukas's original cell and tied all of them up inside.  


And that was the end to an extremely climatic morning. The sun broke through the night's veil gloriously, as if it was completely ignorant of what was about to happen. The men setting up the stakes in the plaza outside smiled to one another as they constructed the wooden structures, talking about how it would be perfect weather for burning, no rain to dampen the flames. Small birds in their trees chirped joyfully, flitting from branch to branch as Lukas, Emil and Arnesen sat in their prison cell, waiting for their captors to take them outside. They sat with their backs against the walls, defeated and limp. All three knew that death was inevitable anyway, and were secretly glad that they were dying together.

When the man came to retrieve the boys from their cell, it was with great surprise that Arnesen was taken a different way than Lukas and Emil. When Arnesen was led up a staircase that had no outside exit at the top, he risked asking, "Where are you taking me?"

The guard shoved him up a flight of stairs before responding. "I’m taking you to your new cell. You're going to be held in the prison for conspiracy against his majesty," the guard's voice was deep guttural. "From there, your fate lies in the judges hands."

Arnesen muttered a soft "oh," as he tramped up the stairs, his eyes unfocused, making the task of putting one foot in front of the other difficult and wearisome.

"What of Lukas and Emil?" Arnesen asked as the guard led him across a ratchety bridge, the gateway at the other end obviously leading to a mass prison building.

Once again, the guard did not respond for quite some time. "They're to be executed. The elder for witchcraft and the younger for being blood-related. The major found the magic threatening and didn't want magical blood running amok in the city." The guard's voice was as deep as ever, but lightness was in it when these words were spoken. Once they were inside the building, the guard led Arnesen back down a flight of stairs so that they were on ground level. The guard inserted a large key into a door, and the door swung open with loud creaking coming from the hinges. "Look, I'm sorry. I really am. But there's nothing either you or I can do to change anything that's going to happen without making it worse," the guard said after Arnesen was locked in his prison cell.

In the courtyard outside, Emil was going to be tied up to the stake first. Lukas's hands were tightly bound behind his back, no sympathy found from any onlooker, after all, anyone who had come had only been looking for a good show, not a happy ending. Lukas kept his head held high however, not showing the weakness that the crowd expected to see. It was when Lukas tore his violet eyes away from the stake Emil was on that he noticed a slightly chubby woman with greying-brunette hair making her way slowly throughout the crowd.

Na came up to the escort that had been assigned to Lukas. "May I have a word with him?" The guard looked from Lukas to Na a few times before shrugging. Na sighed gratefully and ran up to Lukas, putting her arms around him. "You never could get a break, could you?" She asked softly.

Lukas furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the statement.

"My best friend's child was accused of witchcraft. The child and its mother were executed, and my friend hanged himself in the outskirts of the city. He had another child with his second wife later on, that never met its father and grew up on the streets, its mother not able to take care of it. That's why I run an orphanage, so that all the unwanted children in the streets can have a home. Maybe that's why I always loved you three so much, you reminded me of them," she said, pulling Lukas tighter to her.

"I... I didn't know that. I'm sorry," Lukas whispered in response. "I can't return your embrace, so I apologize for that as well," Lukas added, and Na gave a weak laugh. That was when the priest began reading Emil's charges. Lukas began to turn his head towards the stake, but Na reached up with her hand and held his head still.

"I would think you'd rather not watch, dearest." She said softly. She pulled back and held Lukas at shoulder length. "My, my, you sure did grow quite tall, didn't you, Lukas?" Lukas could now see the tears brimming Na's eyes.

It was at this point that he realized his eyes were brimmed with tears too. He laughed and tucked his head to the ground, it was a weak and defeated laugh, but it was a laugh. He sighed, turning his head to face the stake once more. As Na protested, Lukas turned back to her with a darkened gaze.

"I'd rather make sure he knows that he won't be alone for very long, in that spinning and endless world of death." He said this sternly, but with a gentle and carefree heart. "I've bested death time and time again, but this time death has caught me in his clutches," Lukas had his head tilted, his eyes unfocused and staring at blank space. It seemed as if the boy who had been called crazy had finally lost his last shred of sanity, but in reality Lukas had simply zoned out of focus. Suddenly he perked up and looked directly into Na's eyes, those kind eyes that he had come to relate with someone that had treated him as a mother would treat her son. "You were one of the reasons I was able to keep living, Na. Thank you. Tell Arnesen thank you as well... for everything." Lukas's voice signaled finality, and Na nodded.

“I'll let him know when I see him," she responded softly.

It was that moment, when Lukas turned around to look at the stake when Emil was brought up onto the platform. Emil's young, violet eyes searched the crowd and soon found their target; Lukas's dark blue gaze. Lukas took an over exaggerated deep breath in and out, and Emil did the action that he had been signaled to do. Emil's light-blonde, silver-looking hair fluttered as a faint breeze trickled into the courtyard.

The fire was started on a small torch, and the organizer of the lovely event raised it above his head with a smile that did not reach his wicked eyes. The crowd began to yell, most of the words Lukas picked out were "Vile!", "Evil!" or "Devil!" That is, unless they were yelling all of them. It was most likely a combination of all three, but soon the crowd synced into the usual chant of "Burn in hell!" Over and over as the crowd raged and became ever more excited. Finally, the man holding the torch flung it at Emil's feet. Lukas kept his eyes unblinking, Emil's pained eyes locked with his. A faint scream, more so a gasp than anything, came from Emil as the flames ran up his legs and torso, leaving blackened skin and ash behind.  


The last Lukas saw of his brother was Emil’s innocent face.

The last Emil saw of his brother were the eyes that pleaded forgiveness for Lukas's sin, for being careless enough to let them get caught.

Emil hoped, as he shut his eyes for the last time, that Lukas knew that it wasn't his fault, what had happened, and that Emil forgave him for whatever it was Lukas believed he had done wrong.

When Lukas saw Emil's eyes close, Lukas shut his own too.  


Lukas's time had come, and he very well knew it too. "I guess this is it, right Na?" He felt her jump next to him at the sudden noise. She sighed.

"You say it as though I'll never see you again," she responded, grief making her voice crack.

"Well, I won't," Lukas pointed out logically. "But since you insist... I'll see you when the moon rises and the sky is clearest, tomorrow perhaps, if not tomorrow than perhaps next week. As of now, I bid you a good day, the weather does allow it." Lukas smiled, and as the guards came to tie him up to the other stake he waved backwards to her, an action that, caught by a guard's eye, resulted in a hit to the back of his head. Lukas did not care, however. His mind flashed back to his youth when he had been dragged and thrown into the river. He had to withhold himself from saying "ah, what good times those were, back when it was only children who were trying to kill me," or laughing at the irony that he had almost been killed by water to be faced with the opposite element as his final eliminator.

His wrists were freed from their bonds for a brief second before they were tied around the wooden stake that would go down in flames with him. As the priest repeated the same message of heresy he had said before Emil’s burning, Lukas held his chin so that it was parallel to the ground, looking out among those who had accused him with haughty eyes. The chant began once more, harsh and guttural. Lukas anticipated the torch and braced himself, but found that the flames did not hit him. He looked at the torch, and sure enough, it was frozen in midair, the fire leaping harmlessly into the wind.

Some people screamed. They were fools to have expected anything less. Lukas made the fire jump from the torch and create a circle around himself on the platform, only allowing it to burn the wood that was farther away from his feet. He began playing with it, casting rings of fire into the air to create peculiar smoke rings that curled up and swirled. He made shapes and animals with the line of fire, and eventually cast all of the fire into the air and made it explode, much like a giant firework. The perpetrator was astounded, and slightly furious. Two more torches were thrown at Lukas's feet, but Lukas caught them both times and sent them up high as well. The fourth torch was being lit, and at this point Lukas was watching them, anticipating the throw with a large amount of focus. Just as the perpetrator was about to throw the torch an arrow flung from the crowd and landed in Lukas's shoulder.

Lukas screeched in surprise and agony as he looked at the arrow. He examined the shaft and knew from the look of his skin that poison had been coated onto the point. In a matter of seconds the effects of poison were clouding his vision and movement, so when the torch was thrown he did not stop it. Instead, he picked up a small amount of fire with his witchcraft and drew it in a circle above him before he made it plunge down and engulf him in flames.  


His pain did not last very long, and soon he was gone from our world.  


The window of Arnesen's cell was positioned so that he could watch the two from his cell. He gripped the bars of the windows, his heart snapping over and over. Not only this, but Arnesen's heart felt as though it had been engulfed in a vast ocean of frigid water.

A tear ran down his as face he realized that he had never told Lukas "I love you."

He curled up on the ground that night, knees brought to his chest and cried out at midnight, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust."


	6. The Aftermath

Years later when Arnesen was released from prison, he returned to Na’s home and helped her both find and raise children who would have otherwise grown up on the streets. One day while running an errand, Arnesen passed a young teenager, or elder child; she was in that age when it became difficult to tell which. She reached out to him and grabbed his shirt. It was there that she handed him a miniature basket full of flowers.

“I was there the night he was caught, in the courtyard,” she said, and Arnesen stiffened, but quickly relaxed and accepted the basket. “I was too young to understand what you said that night, but as I’ve grown older I believe I finally understand.” Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked up into Arnesen’s light blue eyes. “My father is the Witch Hunter that caught Lukas, and is the one who shot him on the stake.” Arnesen bit the inside of his cheek, remaining silent. “I wanted to apologize for what he did, and also apologize because I could not stop him. I apologize for Emil as well. My father is blinded by his job and fails to see who the true monster is in society, and I apologize for that.” Arnesen bent down to her height and hugged her, gently wrapping his arms around her.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear, and she smiled and hugged him back.

In time, the two became friends, in a… strange way. They created a small tomb for both Lukas and Emil, and though they lacked the remains or ashes of either, both of them visited the grave and laid a fresh flower on it every morning, and Arnesen went back in the evening when he didn’t have errands to run for Na.

After a few years, the little girl was visiting the grave just as usual when the ominous figure of Arnesen’s hung body greeted her over the grave. Greatly saddened at the loss of her friend, she got some of her willing school friends to help her remove his body from the tree and bury him.

The gravestone she erected in their memory read as such,

 

**HERE LIES ARNESEN,**

**A FATHER TO US ALL.**

**HERE LIES THE MEMORIES OF HIS BROTHERS**

**LUKAS AND EMIL,**

**WHO WERE VICTIMS OF A**

**GREAT WRONGDOING OF THE TOWN**

**AND KILLED UNJUSTLY.**

**LEST WE EVER FORGET WHO THE REAL MONSTER IS.**

**R. I. P.**

 

There was not a single day that went by that the gravestone lacked flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> "Witch" was inspired by a combination of the Witch hunts of the medieval English era, the Salem Witch hunts and, of course, those mentioned in "The Tales of Beedle the Bard," specifically in the tale "Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump." I hope you enjoyed this story.


End file.
